


Once I called McGonagall Mum

by cauldron__cakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Just Cute Stuff, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), Truth or Dare, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauldron__cakes/pseuds/cauldron__cakes
Summary: Harry calls Professor McGonagall 'Mum' by accident. It is both adorable and a little heartbreaking.Just a little one shot mostly for my own heart.





	Once I called McGonagall Mum

_         “Err...truth” _

_         “Oh, booo. Boringggg”  _

_         “Just ask me a damn question, you git.”   _

_         “Fine. What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in front of a professor?”  _

_         “Ron, we have all the same classes.”  _

_         “But when I wasn’t there. Come on, you’ve got to have something.” _

_         “...Guess I called McGonagall Mum once.” _

_         “Ha! What did she do?” _

_         “She...she seemed a bit sad, actually.” _

 

April 1994

        Transfiguration was quickly becoming the third years’ most difficult and time consuming class, a fact the Gryffindors, in particular, found extremely unfair, considering they also had to deal with the everlasting frustration of being the most hated members of the school in the eyes of Professor Snape, who made potions torture both in and out of the dungeons.

        Regardless, the work was necessary, according to Professor McGonagall, so they work they did. Unfortunately, despite working through the night on more than one occasion, Hermione still seemed to be the only one able to turn her kettle into a proper porcupine. It was these circumstances that left Harry and Ron, along with a few other entirely flummoxed Gryffindors, in the Transfiguration classroom on a Saturday afternoon, while the rest of the castle was out on the lawns, bathing in the first rays of sun spring had brought.

        Ron leaned back in his seat, dropping his wand on the desk and letting his arms fall dramatically to his sides. “That’s it, I’m never getting this. Everyone else but you and I have done it. I give up, might as well just fail me now, Professor.”

        “Honestly, Mr. Weasley, that’s ridiculous. You are perfectly capable of this very simple bit of transfiguration. Try again, and if you can’t do it, you’re free to leave.” Ron bit his lip and grabbed his wand off the desk. He peeked sheepishly back up at McGonagall, whose face softened briefly. Ron screwed up his face, and with a harsh little flourish of his wand, spat out the spell. To his own clear surprise, he opened his eyes to a perfectly alive (if a bit pink) porcupine.

        “Ha!” he exclaimed. “Great. Thanks, professor! Harry, you know I’d love to stay, but I’ve really got to see the sun today. Good luck, just think about porcupines that’s what I did.”

        Before Harry could protest, Ron had grabbed his bag and had nearly sprinted from the room.

_         Great, now I’m alone with her.   _

“Alright, Potter, let’s see you try, then.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry mumbled.

No luck. Harry concentrated harder, tried to picture a porcupine in his mind. Not even a spike. Maybe if he saw the spell again he could get it. Without looking up, Harry called over to McGonagall, who had gone back to her desk to watch.

“Mum, could you-“

        McGonagall went still, a small breath escaping her lungs before she could push it down.

        Realization dawned on Harry’s face, quickly followed by a creeping red flush from the base of his neck to the tip of his ears. 

_         Did I just? No, no I couldn’t have. Oh, my god, I did. Shitshitshit-  _

        “W-what did you say, Mr. Potter?” 

_         Has her voice ever shook like that before? _

        He didn’t think so.

_         I have to say something now, she’s looking at me.  _

        “I’m sorry, Professor. I just…I was wondering if you could…er,” Harry had entirely forgotten the question. He looked back at Professor McGonagall and suddenly felt all too sure he could see tears glistening behind her glasses. The two looked at each other for what felt like far longer than either wanted. Abruptly, McGonagall rose from her chair and swept across the room to stand in front of him.

        “Here,” she said, picking up the kettle, “that’s enough for one day, I think.” Her voice sounded like a forced calm. Harry felt rooted to the spot like his legs had spontaneously forgotten how to work correctly. In the space of what felt like only a few seconds, she had returned, and the kettle had gone to some cupboard, or perhaps transfigured into a quill and stored in a desk drawer for all he knew. He seemed to have blacked out for a moment. 

        “Potter?” Harry abruptly snapped out of wherever his mind had wandered off to.

        “Er, yes, sorry professor, I’ll go.” Arms feeling as useless as his legs, Harry clumsily picked up his bag and swung it indelicately over his shoulder. He had nearly left the room when McGonagall’s voice sounded from behind him again.

        “Potter!” She called. Harry turned around, fearing more homework. Instead, he found the professor hadn’t moved from the spot next to his desk, hands fidgeting oddly with her wand.

        “Yes, Professor?”

        “Go get some sun. We’ll…you need a break. And Harry?” Harry found the bottom had dropped out from his stomach again.

_         Since when does she call me Harry?  _

        “Let me know if you need help again.”

        Harry mumbled a response he wasn’t sure McGonagall could hear and left the room feeling like he’d just been kicked in the chest. Or perhaps hugged a little too tightly. He shook his head and went to find Ron and Hermione on the grounds, already playing a game of exploding snap with Fred and George.

        McGonagall sat at her desk, the moment running through her mind on repeat. She didn’t notice the tears welling up in her eyes again, but it took her well over half the hour to sort herself out enough to rise and prepare for dinner.

        Neither of them mentioned the moment again.

        But neither of them forgot, either.


End file.
